The Affectionate Adversary (34 page)

“Mr. Locke,” the footman announced as Charles entered the main drawing room at Trenton House. Because only Sarah and Miss Watson lived in the home their father had purchased shortly before his death, Charles was surprised to find all three sisters present. Gowned in white day dresses, they stood near the tea table that had been drawn up before the fire.

“Lady Delacroix,” Charles said, bowing. “Good afternoon, madam. Mrs. Heathhill, Miss Watson, how do you do?”

“We are all well, Mr. Locke.” Sarah stretched out her arm to indicate an empty settee. “Will you not join us at tea, sir? You are most welcome.”

“Indeed, you are, sir,” Miss Watson concurred, stepping out from the cluster of chairs near the table. “Do come and rejoice with us, for we have just had the happiest news of our lives! And you cannot guess what else! I have had a letter printed in
The Tattler
, and Miss Pickworth has answered me. Have you seen it?”

“I have not,” he told her. “I am much occupied with my studies.”

“We are all aflutter, and you must be told everything.” Miss Watson glanced at her sisters. “You cannot mind if Mr. Locke knows your news, can you, Mary? He is our dear friend, and he will be as pleased as we.”

Mrs. Heathhill appeared considerably less than pleased at her younger sister’s gush of information, but she gave Charles a polite smile. “Of course, Mr. Locke. Do sit down with us.”

“Our sister Mary has just informed us that she is in the increasing way!” Prudence whispered, leaning close to Charles and enveloping him with the scent of heliotrope and roses. She wore a gown with a deeply scooped neckline, and her fingers were warm as she took his hand to lead him toward the gathering. “We expect our new niece or nephew to be born in the spring. As you can imagine, we are beside ourselves with joy.”

“My heartiest congratulations, Mrs. Heathhill,” Charles said, hoping his expression did not reveal the extreme discomfort that news of such a delicate and private matter engendered. He had been taught that polite society never mentioned the sensitive condition in which women often found themselves. But perhaps this confidential information indicated that the family had forgiven him for the indiscretion at Bamberfield House and intended to embrace him as a friend after all. If so, he was pleased—especially considering the objective of his current mission.

“Thank you, Mr. Locke,” Mrs. Heathhill told him. “I shall convey your kind words to my husband. Do be seated, and make yourself comfortable among us. We have not seen you for some time, and we hope you are well.”

“Thank you, madam. I am in the best of health. My studies at Lincoln’s Inn progress admirably, and my father continues to enjoy his retirement. Now all I lack is the certainty that my letters to your family and friends achieved their intended purpose.”

“Yes, they did,” Miss Watson declared. “All is forgotten. Sarah’s account of the events that night in the walled garden at Bamberfield concurred perfectly with your own, and your letters further mollified the situation. Lord Delacroix speaks well of you and has mentioned how very much he enjoyed fishing with you that weekend at his lake. I believe he would welcome another opportunity to engage in sport with you. He is a great fox hunter, you know.”

“Thank you, Miss Watson, but as I am currently much occupied with the law, I fear another weekend away from town is out of the question.”

Thus far, Sarah had said nothing beyond her greeting. She hardly glanced at Charles as she poured him a cup of tea and spoke to her lady’s maid to send away for another pot. Her sisters, on the other hand, were all attention and solicitous welcome. Though Charles was not quite certain what had brought about their happy demeanor, he was grateful.

“It must require a great deal of effort to become a barrister,” Miss Watson was saying now. “Are there many years of study before one can be called to the bar?”

“About five years are required to attain the rank of barrister. But I must inform you all that after careful consideration and much prayer, I have decided no longer to strive toward that position. I am resolved upon the lower courts, where I shall undertake the practice of law as a solicitor.”

The stunned silence that followed this announcement was broken by the timely arrival of the fresh teapot and a new round of savories and sweets. Charles focused on Sarah, who carefully attended to the distribution of the tea things and gave him not a glance. Her sister, Mrs. Heathhill, posted a decided frown upon her visage, while Miss Watson appeared to be in shock.

“A solicitor?” she exclaimed as the footman retreated once again. “But solicitors are very low. They cannot present cases before the House of Lords, nor do they obtain clients of any prestige whatever. Solicitors defend … well, they defend … the refuse of the streets.”

“If by
refuse
you refer to the commoner who cannot pay his debts or the woman of ill repute who has been cast into gaol, you are correct. But I am a man of common descent, Miss Watson, as you know. I am not ashamed of my ancestry, nor can I consider myself above the task of promoting the legal rights of my fellow man.”

“But they are thieves and prostitutes! And debtors! And pickpockets! And murderers! And highwaymen! And gypsies!”

“Enough, Prudence,” Sarah cut in firmly. “If Mr. Locke has chosen to become a solicitor, I am certain he has good reasons.”

“I do,” Charles said, capturing Sarah’s eyes and willing her to look at him. “You see, Lady Delacroix, I once met a woman who imparted to me some wisdom that greatly affected my life. May I share with you the story of that encounter?”

“Please do,” Miss Watson insisted on her sister’s behalf.

“I should like to know what could convince a man of good sense to undertake so unhappy a course. Especially one who is clever and well educated and has friends who might support his advancement.”

“Then I shall tell you,” Charles replied, never taking his focus from Sarah. “This particular woman—for whom I have great respect—told me that if I wished to set the course of my life in a manner that would bring true peace of mind, I ought to seek the will of God by making a thorough study of the teachings of Scripture. Furthermore, she insisted that a life spent in the accumulation of wealth and position was a wasted life, and that—”

“It was Sarah!” Miss Watson exclaimed. “She is the woman of whom you speak, for I can hear her in your message.”

“You are correct, madam,” Charles said. “Although I once rejected your sister’s instruction, I now believe she was right. I have studied Scripture. I have asked God for guidance. And I am resolved to follow a course quite different from the one that I first set. I no longer have any desire to accumulate earthly wealth. I hope to provide a living for myself and my father, and that is all. On Judgment Day, I shall lay my labors on behalf of London’s destitute and criminal element before the throne of God. If He chooses to reward me with heavenly treasures, then I shall be grateful. And I shall be content in the knowledge that I undertook to please Him above all else. That is all I ask.”

“Then you do not plan to start a tea company after all?” Miss Watson asked, an expression of dismay on her face. “Nor do you mean to mingle in our society?”

“I do not. I am sorry if my decision distresses you in any way, madam, but I shall not be moved from it. I am resolute.”

“Is this why you came to Trenton House today, Mr. Locke?” Sarah asked him. “To inform us of this?”

“I hoped to inform
you
, my lady. I knew your sisters would learn the information in time.” Pausing, Charles summoned his resolve before speaking again. “But I came also with a second objective, and I shall be frank. I wish most humbly to present my suit before you one last time. Lady Delacroix, you know now that I am in complete agreement with all that you hold most dear. I have no interest whatsoever in your fortune, and I willingly encourage you to disburse it in any manner you see fit.”

He turned to Prudence and Mary, while continuing to address Sarah. “I admire your sisters and enjoy their company, and I should be happy to meet with them on any occasion—but I have lost all desire to ascend to a social stratum above the one in which I currently reside. In fact, I shall be quite pleased to descend, as did my Lord and Savior, to consort with the so-called publicans and sinners of the streets. As I assist these people in their legal defense, it is my hope to proclaim Christ’s salvation that their hearts may be changed as well as their lot in life.”

Charles shifted to face Sarah again. “And now, in view of all I have just stated before you, Lady Delacroix, I wish to beg once again—and most respectfully—for your hand in marriage.”

As if a barrel of gunpowder had exploded, leaving a disturbing calm in its wake, a profound silence fell over the room. Sarah stared down at her hands, knotted and whiteknuckled in her lap, as though she were trying to prevent them from moving. Mrs. Heathhill stared unblinkingly at Charles. Miss Watson let out a small gasp and clapped her hand over her mouth.

“May I expect any answer at this time, Lady Delacroix?” Charles ventured. “I realize my proposal is unusual in its public nature, but I am pleased that your sisters may know exactly where I stand. I should be very happy to learn your own feelings on the matter.”

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, Henry Carlyle, Lord Delacroix, strode into the drawing room without introduction. “I am told that Locke is here!” he bellowed as he stepped toward the gathering. “Aha! I see that my information is correct, and I am—”

“Oh, Lord Delacroix, you are come just in the nick of time!” Miss Watson cried out and leapt from her seat. “We have such a to-do here, for Mary expects a baby in the spring, and Mr. Locke proposes marriage to Sarah instead of to me, which may be well enough, but you and I are left with no one but each other!”

Mrs. Heathhill and Sarah both stood along with Charles as their sister hurtled into the newcomer’s arms.

“Upon my word, you must calm yourself at once, madam.” Delacroix took the young lady’s shoulders as she sagged into him. “You are all at sixes and sevens, Miss Watson, and … dear Lady Delacroix, whatever is the matter with your sister?”

“I am undone!” Miss Watson exclaimed. “I shall be utterly abandoned by all my friends and family!”

By this time, Mrs. Heathhill was hurrying to assist Delacroix in the suppression of Miss Watson’s hysterics. Sarah, too, helped return her youngest sister to the fireside, draped her across a chaise longue, and began to fan her with great ardor.

Charles found himself earnestly wishing to make his departure as swiftly as possible. He had stated his intentions upon calling at Trenton House, and he could do nothing but add further duress to this current state of panic to which he had inadvertently contributed.

Before he could determine how best to escape, Delacroix turned on him. “Marry
you
?” he demanded of Charles. “You again asked Lady Delacroix to marry you? I believed we had an agreement, sir! You were to press my suit to her. You were to inform me if she contacted you.”

“I never agreed to anything of the sort, sir,” Charles insisted. “My love for Lady Delacroix precludes such a pact. I have presented my case to her, and I am now prepared to depart the premises.”

“On the contrary, sir, you will remain precisely where you are.” Running his hands over his golden curls, Delacroix gave his head a shake. “Allow me to gain some understanding of the crisis at hand. Mr. Locke has gotten Mrs. Heathhill with child,
and
he wishes to wed Lady Delacroix?”

“No!” all three sisters cried out at once. Miss Watson’s eyes rolled back in her head, and her sisters called the maids to fetch the smelling salts.

“Certainly not!” Charles sputtered. “Mrs. Heathhill expects … well, she anticipates … dash it all, she bears her husband’s progeny, of course. Mr. Heathhill is the father of the child.”

“Mr. Locke had nothing to do with
that
!” Miss Watson called out, her eyelids fluttering. “But … he loves Sarah as he always did … and she loves him—”

“She what?” Delacroix squared his shoulders at Charles. “Has she accepted your offer, sir? Answer me at once.”

“Ask her yourself, for the lady stands beside you.”

“I have not accepted any offers of marriage,” Sarah spoke up. “Mr. Locke and Lord Delacroix, if you will both be so kind as to sit down and be quiet, I shall attempt to make some sort of sense of this entire muddle. And, Prudence, please do not speak another word until I say.”

“But—”

“No!” Sarah covered her sister’s mouth with her hand. “You have said too much already, you silly ninny. Now then … Mary, will you please inform Lord Delacroix of your happy news.”

Mrs. Heathhill swallowed. “I am … increasing.”

“How very pleased I am to hear this news,” Delacroix replied. “And even happier to learn that Mr. Locke has refrained from involving himself in our lives at least to that extent.”

Here he glared at Charles, who raised his eyebrows and picked up his teacup. By now, Miss Watson had managed to revive herself enough to sit up. The smelling salts were not needed after all, and Sarah waved away the maid who had raced into the room with the small silver bottle. The three sisters, each bearing a fan and sporting a pair of bright pink cheeks, leaned back in their respective chairs and let out a collective sigh.

“I have asked Lady Delacroix to marry me,” Charles informed the gentleman. “I continue to await her answer in the hope that she will agree to become my wife.”